


A Beautiful Thing

by blynrin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sexy Times, and sappy things, idk - Freeform, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blynrin/pseuds/blynrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel, in all his new human glory, almost gets himself killed on a hunt. Dean isn't impressed, not that he was worrying or anything. (Drabble/oneshot for deanbangscasintheimpala on tumblr. Some smut and sappiness ensues.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beautiful Thing

**Author's Note:**

> um I'm horrible bye - Blynn

_  
_“Cas!” Dean was running after the man with all the speed his feet would allow him, the crunch of twigs and leaves under his boots alerting every creature in the surrounding forest of his presence. Castiel and him had approached this hunt cautiously, agreeing that stealth when following the tracks of a fresh vamp. Everything had gone perfectly up until this precise moment where Cas disappeared into the darkness of the wood before them.

 

Dean had felt helpless, wondering how a fallen angel could outrun him, let alone catch up to a amped up vampire running on fumes and a thirst for blood. All he knew was the man was powerless and useless with a gun, and he knew that his chances of survival were slim if he continued on this path.

“Castiel!” He yelled, his voice threading through branches of trees and rushing down the stream in a frantic attempt to find the man. “You are so done if I find you alive.” His voice was reduced to a pant as he gasped for air, his throat reaching out for a trip grip on oxygen as he screamed at the top of his lungs. 

Castiel was not stupid. He was ignorant and a bit senseless at times, but when it came to monsters, he should of known his newly human state was no match with the little experience he possessed. 

Dean let out a swear, coming to a halt at a freshly fallen tree blocking his path. He huffed, resting his palms on his knees as he assessed the situation in his mind. What was he to do? If Cas died, let alone under his watch, he didn’t know what… he pushed away the morbid thoughts piling up in his mind. 

A branch snapped under someone’s weight a few feet ahead of him, and his first reaction was to draw his weapon. His eyes locked onto a familiar set of blues and he dropped the gun at his side, eyebrows knit together in confusion and anger. 

“Dean,” Cas spoke, limping forward towards him with a slight whimper. Blood dripped from his temple down his chin, a small gash at the base of his hairline. Red stained the sleeves of his trench coat, the white of his shirt, the flesh of his hands- accompanied by the presence of mud and dirt as if he had been thrashed around a countless number of times. “Don’t look at me like that, my condition is stable. I have taken minimal damage.”

Dean growled. “Cas, you’re not an angel anymore. You’ve been human for only a few months, you barely know how to handle a weapon, and you ran off after a vampire without me.” 

Castiel met the Winchester’s gaze with remorse for his actions. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“You didn’t worry me.” But the obvious truth was that he had. Dean had practically been shaking at the idea that he could have died in these woods that very night. He approached Cas with a keen eye, double checking that his wounds were not fatal, before grunting in displeasure. “You killed him?”

“Yes,” Cas murmured, wiping at his face and only marking up his face more. “I was just trying to prove to you that I am becoming a better hunter, you know.”

Dean did not say a word the entirety of their trip back home. It was an awkward silence, filling up the empty space of the Impala and constricting them with a tight grip. Cas understood that he had once again, done something wrong. Guilt crawled through his body as they arrived at the small motel room they had rented for their hunt, Sammy back at the Batcave doing research with Kevin on the angel tablet and the fallen that had landed on Earth. 

“Dean,” Castiel whispered softly as Dean opened their room door, following him and flipping on the light switch to reveal their barely touched room. “I’m sorry.”

His heartbeat quickened as a hand shot past him to shut the door, and Dean was dangerously close to him. “Cas, sorry isn’t going to cut it this time.” There was something in the Winchester’s eyes that signaled frustration- but not anger. That emotion had seemingly dissolved, leaving nothing but desperation. “Do your cuts need attention?”

“No, I got them mostly cleaned up while we were in the car-”

“Good.” Dean grabbed at the fallen angel’s rear, needy with his touch as he pulled their bodies together. This was his form of punishment. Before Castiel could respond, thoughts of the Pizza man clouding his mind, their lips crashed into each other, their kisses brash and hungry. Dean bit at the man’s lower lip in a harsh manner, almost to the point of drawing blood. “Because, I need to do this. Now.”

How does worry turn into anger, then spawn into a desire for touch? It was as if the potential loss of the man before him sent his mind into a downward spiral of emotion, one that sent his body and mind into a frenzy that craved to have Castiel closer. 

Dean reached for Castiel’s coat, tugging it off with one brisk movement with no cares regarding the damp blood soaking the fabric. Next went his own jacket as the fresh human fell into the rhythm of their dance, their fingers desperately trying to claw off the garments that remained on their backs. 

Bare chests heaved against one another, their heavy breathing out of sync as they clung onto each other in a hectic rush that made Cas dizzy with excitement. He had not experienced such a pleasure as this, the way Dean’s kisses ravaged his neck and his hands toyed with his belt. It seemed as though the previous quarrel had been long forgotten and lost in the raging tide of their hormones, a reawakened beast inside Dean and a new discovery in Castiel. 

The hunter pushed his angel onto one of the full beds, knocking over the small collection of books Cas had brought for the journey onto the floor with a waterfall of thuds that went unacknowledged. He planted small kisses down the man’s muscled torso and down his happy trail as he worked the pants off his body. Castiel was lost in a fit of moans, fumbling with Dean’s own belt as he had previously watched in the small collection of porn he may have accidentally ordered back when he still had his wings. 

All in all, they were two lost souls with tangled limbs and ravenous souls, heated faces and sloppy kisses that led to such a disorganized but glorious encounter neither of them could describe with words. 

Castiel’s hips bucked with every stroke of Dean’s fingers, the trace of his tongue against him. Shivers rushed up Dean’s spine at the way Cas grabbed at his back, how what little nails he had dug into his shoulder blades as he worked his mouth around the man. In one fluid motion, their lips brushed and Castiel was on his side with Dean pressed firmly against him from behind. 

The soothingly gruff voice whispered his intentions into the inexperienced male’s ear, his palms resting on Castiel’s thighs. With a swallow, the man nodded his approval, and allowed Dean into him. 

It had been a sensation like no other. His body went numb with pleasure, his throat unable to form words but light groans that filled the air with a sweet ring. As Dean’s pace quickened, so did his heartbeat as it hammered against his ribcage in slight agony from the raw feeling and pure ecstasy as it rushed through every nook and cranny of his vessel. His breath hitched at the hard thrusts into him, and Castiel gripped at sheets as he fought back every urge to turn himself around to clutch Dean in his hands. 

The rhythm of Dean’s movements became the only collective thought in the room, the ebb and flow of the pattern delicious and dangerous. He could feel himself coming close, and he lost the tempo in his attempt to make the final moments count up until his release.

A hot and sticky fluid filled Castiel and he trembled at how remarkable it had made his vessel feel. Dean quickly crawled on top of the brunette, fingers encircling his throbbing member once more, heightened pace to help out Castiel. Their eyes met, Dean’s emerald stare almost taking his ability to breathe. He propped his elbows up, inching up to seize a gentle kiss. A few more quick strokes and Cas’ back arched as he came, and they fell into each other, his release sticking to their skin in their heat. 

Castiel’s eyes rolled back as he caught his breath, trying to calm himself down. This was what sexual intercourse had felt like, and it was invigorating. He rolled onto his side with Dean latched to him, his hand finding the perfect dip of his hips. “I.. I Dean..” He couldn’t fathom his bliss into words, no matter how many lines he ran mentally. 

“Shush,” Dean muttered, wrapping his arms around Castiel with a small huff. “Talk later, sleep now. I’m exhausted.” 

Castiel nodded reluctantly. He let the reticence take ahold of the room, his thoughts pounding at his skull. What did this all mean? He, being himself, had to understand. He craved insight in the deepest corners of Dean’s mind. “Dean.”

“What is it?” He murmured, cracking his eyelids open, coming fact to face with the oceans of Castiel’s eyes. 

“What I know about intercourse, which is very little,” he started and Dean could sense the nervous tone in his voice, “is that you have it with ones you treasure and care deeply about.. I know you have been very frustrated and depraved of such needs as of late and I do not want to mistake this as something else such as…” His words trailed off.

“Love,” Dean stately simply. He bit his lip, observing the features of the man before him. Castiel had once been a mighty angel of the Lord, who didn’t have the programming to feel. What the man had felt during his weaker times, he could only imagine scraped the surface of what he was experiencing now. He could see it in the way his lips quivered and his eyes grew wide in realization that he may have just ruined something between them. To see such a warrior shrunken down to such a small man, whose innocence nearly tripled when he fell- it was a sight he never thought he lived to see. 

The Winchester pulled his fallen angel into his chest, resting his chin on top of the brunette’s head. “Cas,” he sighed into his hair, “do you ever wonder why I always seem so angry with you?”

“I-”

“It’s because, I’m worried. I constantly worry about you, and now, with you human, the fear has only grown. Before, you had means to take care of yourself. Now, you’re human, and it’s as if you have to start over again. Remember how vulnerable Anna had been? I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault, but mine, Dean.” Castiel’s eyes were closed, his voice muffled by Dean’s chest as he pressed closer. 

“That’s not the point,” he replied, “I need you, Cas. I need you far more than your little angel mind could ever comprehend. So before you think that this is me releasing my steam, understand that.” Dean could feel the corner of Castiel’s lips tug up into a smile against his skin and he chuckled. 

“So, you forgive me for chasing the vampire then?”  _You love me?_

“Not a chance.”  _I love you._

The words were not spoken verbally, nor really implied, but he understood. They had this profound bond even without his heavenly form, and a friendship that outlasted all the chaos of their years together. Castiel had come to realize that everyone up in Heaven had been right. He had been feeling far more than an angel should before he fell. And it was a beautiful thing, to love and be loved. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”  _I love you too_. 


End file.
